Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Food restrictions

Going out to eat with friends or family is
one of life’s greatest pleasures. At least it should be. But it turns into an
exercise in frustration and mortification when that loved one has food
restrictions.

Being gluten-free is child’s play in the face
of folks who are trying to work a menu when they are avoiding dairy, nightshades,
high-fructose corn syrup or sugar in any form, prefer their water filtered, and
are currently avoiding eight major foods as part of an elimination diet.

This is when I’d like to eliminate them. Or
disappear into the floor of the restaurant, after giving the server a
sympathetic look and a massive tip.

We all thought Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally was a
high-maintenance diner. While she might be the patron saint of these picky
eaters, her requests for salad dressing or ice cream on the side seem downright
quaint.

It’s great that as a society we’ve evolved to
the point that we can cut out major food groups and pantry staples from our
diet. It’s a modern first-world problem. The Irish weren’t in a position to cut
out starches or any other foodstuff when the famine hit the Emerald Isle, for
feck’s sake. And I bet a starving child in Burundi would be more than happy to
down that lobster mac and cheese you just poo pooed, dairy, gluten and
shellfish sensitivities be damned.

If you don’t want to eat something, navigate toward a more palatable dish on the menu
or stay home and roast an organic chicken. Don’t ask the chef to change a dish
he or she spent considerable time perfecting. And don’t broadcast your laundry
list of food issues to the table. This type of extreme self care just comes off
as an attempt to pull focus from what really matters—that lobster mac and
cheese, of course. I’m packing Prilosec.

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